


Basket Case

by orphan_account



Series: Tidbits [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Little Gotham
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Food, Gen, Silly, Straight up Crack tbh, attempts at humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 09:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21407632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Tim.” Jason says, ten minutes into the first night of Alfred’s annual vacation, sounding betrayed. “What is this abomination disgracing your plate?”Inspired by the one panel in Little Gotham where the Batboys all cook
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Series: Tidbits [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541653
Comments: 18
Kudos: 475





	Basket Case

**Author's Note:**

> As always:
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any recognizable, or related, characters, settings, or plot device. This all belongs to DC comics, no copyright intended. I'm just playing in this sandbox, having a little fun with characters I love dearly. I make no profit from this, or from any other fanwork.
> 
> Not my best characterization of them, tbh, but this was a lot of fun, so *shrug*
> 
> Love you guys!

“Tim.” Jason says, ten minutes into the first night of Alfred’s annual vacation, sounding betrayed. “What is this abomination disgracing your plate?”

Tim looks down.

Tim looks back up.

“Food?” He replies, mostly certain that this is a safe answer.

A little crease appears on Jason’s forehead, right between his eyebrows. His brother puts his own delicious-looking sandwich down on his plate, and stares at him with an empty look in his eyes.

“_Food_.” Is repeated in a bland tone.

“Food.” Tim confirms, nodding.

The pause that follows this confident declaration feels somewhat tense to Tim’s fraying nerves. Jason takes a deep breath, then proceeds to slowly release it.

“Would you call it food to Alfred’s face?” He asks in a now patient tone of voice, tough he still sounds a little as though someone is playing whack-the-mole with his innards.

Tim thinks about it for a minute.

“It has the necessary amount of calories,” He finally argues, scooping some more of it onto his fork. “-and right proportions of the different food groups.”

Jason makes a sound not unlike the one he had made when a crook had managed to stab him during patrol a few weeks ago. Tim looks on in growing concern, fork halfway to his lips.

“No.” Jason whispers, but does not elaborate further.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, concerned.

“_No_.”

Jason steals Tim’s plate and throws all of its both burned and under-cooked contents in the waste. Then he stands up and leaves the room. The look on Jason’s face reminds him very much of the early days following the Red Hood’s first appearance, full of duffel-bags and explosions; so, of course, Tim follows suit without a second thought.

\---------

Twenty minutes into a grumble-filled exploration of the Manor’s numerous unused rooms, Tim gathers that they’re looking for Bruce. To argue with, most likely.

They do not find him right away, stumbling onto Dick first. Jason’s expression sours further when he notices the box of cereals their older brother is quickly emptying, but no remark is made as Dick looks like he’s rolled out of bed a few moments ago and is on a conference call with Barbara. His meal could, technically, still count as breakfast.

That argument, solid as it is, does not help Jason relax any.

If anything, it has the opposite effect.

\----------

They find Bruce, about half an hour later. He’s built a small campfire on the Manor’s grounds, and is busy impaling mushrooms on a sturdy stick. Near his feet, neatly stocked in a beautiful brown basket, are generous amounts of wild plants and berries. They, Tim notes with interest, are all edible raw.

Sensible. On a flat rock by the fire, a fish is slowly being turned into an overcooked mush.

Bruce seems relaxed enough, biting in some sort of root and grilling the mushrooms over the fire with a peaceful, content, sort of look on his face.

A splutter of despairing rage sounds on Tim’s left.

He turns around.

Jason seems to be on the verge of stabbing Bruce in the throat with his mushroom stick, so Tim proceeds to drag him back inside before that can happen.

\----------

They find Damian in the kitchen, staring down lettuce like it wants to murder him.

With an almost military sort of precision, he whips out condiments from the pantry and goes on to prepare a frankly delicious looking, though fairly simple, salad.

An alarm sounds on Damian’s phone. He turns it off, then goes to the oven to retrieve warmed leftovers of Alfred’s best pasta dish.

Jason strides into the kitchen and hugs him. Tim personally thinks that it’s a terrible idea, to unexpectedly hug Damian when he is already in possession of a knife, but the only thing that happens at first is a resounding surprised squeak.

“Todd?” Damian asks, lowering said knife from its recent home of just above Jason’s femoral artery. Receiving no response but a firmer hold, he diverts his attention to Tim instead. “What happened?” He demands.

Tim grimaces.

“It’s complicated?” He tries.

“It’s really fucking not.” Jason says. “Really, really, fucking not.”

“What happened?” Echoes Dick, waltzing into the kitchen with an empty bowl. Nobody answers him, and he goes to the sink to wash it.

“Oh! You cooked, Dami?”

“Merely the salad.” Damian answers. He receives a proud look from Dick. “Is no one else disturbed by Todd’s evidently failing mental health?”

“Not really.” Tim shrugs, but then again he’s been at Jason’s side through all of this. “How do you know how to cook?”

“Jon’s family.” Damian replies after a beat, puzzled. “They made it clear that they considered my lack of knowledge in the matter a dreadful gap in my skill set,-” Tim hears Jason mutter ‘They were right’ under his breath. “-and offered to teach me the basics.”

“What’s going on?”

Tim turns around. Bruce has entered the kitchen, his basket of plants dangling from one hand.

“I am unsure.”

“Someone hold me back or I’m going to maul him.”

“Dunno. I think it has to do with Dami cooking. Hey, nice haul! You sharing?”

“Of course I am, chum.”

“Someone hold me back or I’m going to maul them.”

“No. No mauling your brothers.”

“Oh, I won’t start with my ‘brothers’.”

“Jason,” Tim calls over the chaos, aiming to create a distraction before the situation can get any worse. “-threw my calories away.”

“Why?”

“Wow, Jay, really? That’s just mean.”

“I will not share my meal with Drake because he is too incompetent to properly defend himself.”

“Wait, calories?”

“Snitch.” He receives a mean look for that. “But. That is one of the two reasons I will cook for him tonight. You idiots are on your own.”

“What’s the other?” Dick asks.

“He tried. Plus, I like him better than the rest of you combined.”


End file.
